Unforeseen Ramifications
by Write-The-Words
Summary: Voldemort may be dead, but that doesn't mean he's gone. He's after Harry again, though not in the way you would expect, and Harry's hope is fading. Can his friends save him from his own mind? Will things ever be good again? Right after the final battle


**So basically this is my first story back up after my renovation of my old account. It very well may be the only one of my old stories to be put back on here at all, despite the fact that it was the least popular. Edited quite a bit since it's last appearance on this site, and I'm actually pretty proud of it. I hope you enjoy :D**

**Takes place directly after Harry, Ron, and Hermione leave Dumbledore's office at the end of Deathly Hallows.**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

The three of them walked down the corridors heading towards the Gryffindor common room where they knew the rest of the Weasley's to be. It should have been a light atmosphere, Harry thought, they should have been laughing and celebrating and having fun. They won after all. They won.

Except they didn't. They had lost so much. Sure there was some celebration going on, and Harry had to keep dodging people wanting to thank or hug him, Ron and Hermione had to do the same on occasion, but the laughter was often interrupted by sniffles or crying. People were walking morosely all around the school, mourning the loved ones they lost, or consoling friends. Some people like Lavender Brown had been forced to leave already, only hours after it all ended. Some, like Seamus and the Patil twins had flat out refused to leave until after the memorial to all the dead that would take place on the grounds the next day. So no, they didn't really feel all that victorious. In fact, Harry couldn't help feeling like they hadn't won anything at all.

Fred was dead. And Lupin, and Tonks, and Moody, and Dobby, and Collin, and…Fred. They were all dead. Because of him. Harry knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that he shouldn't blame himself, but he just couldn't help it. He felt as if he didn't deserve all the grateful looks and "thank you's" and hugs. He couldn't bear it. And it didn't help that his best friend seemed angry with him. Harry had thought he might be imagining it at first, mistaking the reasoning behind Ron's distant behavior. He had just lost his brother after all. But then it became unmistakable, he would grunt his answers out to Harry, but was more than happy to talk to Hermione. Even she seemed a bit cold to him. But he said nothing, he didn't even resent them. Because, let's face it; he deserved what they were giving him and so much more. He'd killed Fred.

The raven-haired boy still couldn't believe that his friend, practically his brother, was gone. He kept expecting the redhead to pop out from around some corner and tell them that it was some kind of sick horrible joke. But he wouldn't, and he never would again. It hurt physically to think that.

Harry's Heart squeezed impossibly tighter as he realized he may have lost his two best mates in the entire world for his stupidity. Ron and Hermione had always been there for him, right from year one. They had comforted him when he needed it, helped him even when he was too proud to ask, and been by his side through every horrible event he had ever been put through. The two of them had even accompanied Harry on what was possibly the most dangerous mission to have ever been attempted; defeating Voldemort. Even when Ron had left, some part of Harry seemed to know that he would come back. They were always there for him when he needed them, after all. And, Merlin, did he need them. It hadn't changed for him now, he still needed his friends. Harry had never known two better people than Hermione and Ron, and how did he repay them for it? He was too bloody slow to figure out what he should have known all along. He failed them.

After what seemed like hours, they finally reached the portrait hole for the Gryffindor common room. The students, families, and Order members who were staying for the ceremonies had had to find creative arrangements for sleeping. Some left the school grounds and flooded into Hogsmeade, which was rapidly filling up with people who wished to attend the memorial scheduled for the next morning, some used now vacant classrooms, (after the torture devices had been gleefully thrown away) and some were in the common rooms. The Room of Requirement had been abandoned and the students who had sought solace in there for such a long time were reunited with their families and staying with them, glad to be able to do so again.

It sort of went as an unspoken rule that Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys got the whole Gryffindor room to themselves. There were a lot of them and they needed space to mourn. While most people had lost someone they cared about in the final battle, and _everyone_ had lost someone due to Voldemort at some point in time, most felt that they were the group of people who had lost the most. Plus they were clearly the ones who had fought the hardest. Harry had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the Weasley's and Hermione had been the only one's whose faith hadn't wavered for one second. So yes, they got Godric's place all to themselves; for the unlikely group were clearly the bravest of them all.

The Fat Lady didn't wait for a password; she swung open to let them in without pause. Even she was in a saddened state, not gossiping with her friend Violet as she usually would have been. The trio stepped inside and were immediately assaulted by a very emotional Mrs. Weasley.

"_Where have you three been? Who do you think you are slipping away like that? Do you even know how worried we've all been?!"_ She practically shrieked.

Harry took a quick scan of the room and noted that she was indeed right. Every Weasley was present, including Fleur, who had arrived a short while after the battle was over, and each and every one of them looked unsteady with relief. Harry's eyes lingered for a moment on George, looking so off balance without his twin by his side, and then when it was too painful to bear, he looked at Ginny. She was looking back at him, with anger in her eyes, but Harry also saw the love that lurked beneath. She was angry because he was missing, not because of what he had done to Fred, and that was something he could not comprehend. How could she still love him (and she did love him-he could see that much in her eyes, it was so easy to read) after what he had done? He looked away from her to Mrs. Weasley to escape the confusion.

She had barley even paused to take a breath before she was off again. _"You go away for months – missing! – with no way for us to know where you were. I didn't like it, but I understood the reasoning, then. It was to end this war. Though I still don't see why a couple of children had to be the ones doing it, but there you are. This is different though. There are still Death Eaters at large and you three would be at the top of their lists! Especially you Harry. You are not to leave my sight again without telling me where you are going! Do I make myself clear?!"_ She seemed unable to speak anymore. The woman he had come to think of as a mother was shaking and obviously trying to hold back sobs, and Harry knew that she wasn't just upset because they had gone missing for a few minutes. She had lost her son, and she didn't want to lose anyone else. Mrs. Weasley was grieving, and Harry would allow her to do whatever she needed; even if he got yelled at all day.

Apparently Ron could see through his mother's guise as well as he could, for the only thing he said was "Mum."

And that was all it took.

Mrs. Weasly broke down sobbing, falling to her knees, and Mr. Weasly embraced her, tears rolling down his cheeks as well. Ron walked over to his mother, losing his composure a little, and clung to her when he lost it completely. The others were soon to follow. Bill and Fleur clung to each other, both crying, as they became the last Weasley's to join the chaotic group hug on the floor.

Harry felt as if he were intruding on something, and one look at Hermione let him know that she felt the same. They both made a move to give the grieving family some privacy but someone; it was hard to tell whom exactly in the mass of limbs and tears, pulled them both in. Hermione melted immediately into Fleur and Ron, who she was closest to, but Harry still felt out of place. He shouldn't be here. A family shouldn't mourn the loss of a beloved member while embracing his murderer. But the way Ginny clung to him let him know, without a doubt, that he was needed; so he swallowed his self-loathing and wrapped his arms around her. He would do whatever they needed him to. Especially her and Ron. If they needed him to stay, to witness what he had done to the family he had considered his own a long time ago, to see the pain he had caused; he would. If they needed him to go, to be alone in this world again when the only people that he cared about stayed behind; he would. At that moment, Harry couldn't tell which one would be worse.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Time passed, though nothing seemed to change. Harry sat in the old armchair, the same one he remembered sitting on in his first year and wished that he could be that young again. He wished to be that naive an innocent. But that was the thing about magic, it wasn't unlimited, you didn't always get what you wanted; no matter how many spells you tried. There was no spell to bring his parents back, or Fred, or anyone else they had lost in this decade's long war. The dead stayed dead. That was something that was a universal fact; the same for muggles and wizards alike.

Hermione sat beside him, staring just as blankly into the wall. They both tried to stay out of the way, leaving the family to themselves, but they didn't dare stray out of sight again.

Ron joined them as one by one his family headed up to bed. Mr. and Mrs. Weasly were the last to go, the former giving them all a kiss on the cheek and warned them sternly that Hermione was to join Ginny in the girl's dormitories. Muttering about having the three of them sleeping all in one room for months without supervision as she walked away, making both Ron and Hermione blush scarlet; Mr. Weasly just winked at them before joining his wife. For those couple of seconds, everything felt normal again; then reality came crashing down.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, the tension thick in the air. Ron looked like he was building up to say something, but suddenly Harry found he couldn't hear it. He just couldn't deal with it all right now.

"I think I'll just go up to bed now as well." And he hurried off, leaving his best friends with inscrutable expressions on their faces.

He expected it to take him a long time to fall asleep, to toss and turn all night long – he had defeated the darkest wizard of all time just that morning after all – but Harry found that as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

Too bad the sleep wasn't all that restful. The dreams were like a picture show in his mind, Voldemort's face haunted him every minute; taunting him. He saw visions of his trip to the forest, felt that same fear all over again, felt the sting of death. He relived the same hollow feeling he had gotten when he had to drop the stone and leave the memories of his parents and their friends behind. The bodies of his Mum and Dad appeared before him, an image of his one-year-old self sat between them, crying; a lightening shaped scar freshly made on his forehead.

The image of his former self morphed suddenly, leaving Harry blinking in confusion. A new child appeared, one he had never seen before but knew instantly who it was: Teddy Lupin. His hair was rapidly changing colors as he wailed on, tears pouring down the baby's face. And Harry watched in horror as the bodies of his long lost parents too began to change. When the transformation was complete, Remus and Tonks lay before him, eyes grotesquely open; staring at everything, but seeing nothing.

Harry moved forward to close them as if compelled, but before he could get there, he froze, staring in shock and dread at their baby who had just _spoken_ to him.

"Why did you do this?" It asked again. At this point Harry refused to call the baby Teddy, or even "he", because it clearly wasn't human. No human baby could ever speak as clear and deep as that. "This is all your fault!" it boomed. "I'm going to be just like you were, alone and orphaned, with no one to care for me. You suffered through it for years, so now you have to put it upon someone else, is that it?!"

"NO!" Harry shouted at the fake Teddy. He knew it was fake, an illusion, a trick, a dream, anything! And yet that knowledge couldn't stop it from harming him.

The thing's mouth moved in an odd and unnatural way, it had teeth looking more appropriate for a small shark than a baby, especially a newborn baby. It was much too aware to be human or real as well, it was staring at Harry with a clarity and lucidity that was impossible; a concentration that normal infants lack. He told himself these things, but none of it mattered. Something didn't have to be real to have the power to hurt you.

Several things happened at once, then. First, the bodies of his parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody, Collin, Dobby, Hedwig, and Fred appeared next to Remus and Tonks; all of their eyes open. Then the monster baby stood up and let out a terrible cackling laugh in the voice of Voldemort.

"You're a fool, Harry Potter, and you will lose everything," it said, still using the voice of Voldemort, repeating the words the Dark Lord had said to him more than two years ago in the department of mysteries.

Harry ran forward frantically, not being able to take all the eyes staring at him, and closed each person's. It should have been more painful to do, Harry thought abstractly, seeing all his dead friends and family, closing their unresponsive eyes, but he felt nothing but the sheer need to escape those eyes. It was that fact that finally convinced Harry once and for all that it was a dream: that he really had come back to life in the woods that day; he hadn't died and gone to hell.

But he reckoned it didn't really matter seeing as he couldn't wake up anyway.

He turned back around and let out an undignified and horror filled yelp as all twenty four eyes snapped open again.

"You're a fool, Harry Potter, and you will lose everything," the baby repeated, still using Tom Riddle's voice.

"Why would you do this to us, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"I took you in as one of my own!" sobbed Mrs. Weasley.

"NO!" Harry yelled in desperation.

"You were my best mate!" Ron shouted, face and ears turning red just like they always did when he was angry.

"I trusted you more than anyone else in my life! Didn't that mean anything to you?" Hermione began to cry.

"I can't believe I ever loved you." Ginny's stare was cold and hard, like a stone in the winter time. It was the complete opposite of the ways she had looked at him before, yet both were so full of passion and emotion, this dream-Ginny was a sick and twisted parody of the real thing. The blazing fire she had in her that had seemed to warm him from the inside had frozen over and turned to ice. Harry seemed to be frozen too, stuck to the one spot on the ground, eyes open in terror.

It was unbearable.

"No!" He shouted again but to no avail. The three most important people in his world were leaving him – _hating_ him – and Harry could do nothing but stand there and shout like a bleeding idiot.

"You're a fool, Harry Potter. And you will lose everything," Voldemort's voice repeated.

"I thought you were a 'ero, 'arry," Fleur told him venomously.

"I warned Ron to stay away from you," Percy sniffed pompously.

"Fred was my other half. I don't know who I am without him! A part of me is dead now too and I can never get it back. And it's _all your fault_!" George shouted, tears of sadness and rage in his eyes.

"You killed us, Harry," the dead started chanting in unison. "If it wasn't for you, we would all still be alive."

"You're a fool, Harry Potter, and you will lose everything." It was becoming too much for him.

"Harry, Harry, Harry…Harry!" Someone's voice was chanting his name but he couldn't make out who it was. The dead had risen and were walking towards him. Everything was so chaotic, Harry couldn't even tell up from down."

"Harry…Harry…_Harry_!!" The voice chanted again. Or maybe it was voices…it sounded like more than one.

"You're a fool, Harry Potter. And you have lost everything," The demonic Teddy sneered and Harry swallowed a sob.

Suddenly he shook and his eyes snapped open, the word of Riddle still echoing in his head. At first, he couldn't understand what had happened, but when it finally clicked the he had woken up his eyes swiveled to the side to reveal a very worried and pale looking Ron right in front of his face, and Hermione, who appeared close to tears right behind him.

Harry flinched back, remembering the looks of hatred and painful words earlier. But…that wasn't real. Was it?

"What happened?" Harry asked confusedly.

"What do you mean 'what happened' you were the one screaming at the top of your voice!" Ron said, sounding tremendously relieved. "It wasn't one of…those dreams, was it? I mean, he's dead, you couldn't be in his mind."

"No, no, it was just a dream." Harry assured them quickly.

"Well, what was it about, Harry? You were yelling and thrashing about—it was so scary," Hermione did, indeed look blatantly terrified.

"I – I…I don't remember," Harry stuttered out, not meeting either of their eyes

"Bollocks," Ron said angrily, making Harry flinch again.

It did not go unnoticed.

Ron's eyes widened and he froze in place, Hermione's eyebrow's came together and she gave Harry a look that made him think she could see right through him.

Ron backed away and sat himself down on the side of his bed. Which, Harry noticed, was the one right next to his instead of all the way across the room like Harry would have thought.

"We should really talk," Hermione said, standing to the side of both of them.

"Harry…" Ron started, but he really didn't want to hear his friend say it.

"I'm sorry!" Harry burst out, refusing to look at either of them.

"Well, good. You bloody well should be." Ron told him and Harry could _feel_ his best friend's eyes boring into him.

"Ron!"

"No Hermione, you were as hurt as I was. Do you know how that felt, Harry? How much pain that caused us, how much pain it caused _everyone_? Do you even care?"

"Of course I do!" Harry's voice raised as his anger peaked. "You guys are the family I have ever known, how could I not care when I tore you apart?!"

"Wait…" Hermione started.

"…What are you talking about?" Ron finished her thought. His face had a look of utter confusion on it while Hermione's bore a sort of horrified realization.

Harry didn't understand what was so confusing, and the frustration that that fed him added to all the other emotions he was feeling, and words seemed to burst out of his mouth against his will. "It's my fault! I know that. Riddle only came here last night because of me in the first place. If I wasn't so thick I would have been able to figure out what I had to do quicker, and all those people wouldn't have had to die. I underestimated him, didn't take him seriously enough. He called me out, I should have gone. I should have just gone in the first place!"

"Harry!" Hermione interrupted, shocked.

"Well, I should have. Weren't you paying attention at all? I had to give myself up the whole time! If I'd been smart enough to figure it out sooner, like Dumbledore obviously expected me to, then Remus, and Tonks, and Fred would still be alive."

"Oh, Harry, you can't blame yourself for the things that Riddle did," Hermione started, her voice tender in a way that Harry couldn't even register.

"Look at the facts, Hermione! My parents died. Why? Voldemort wanted me. Cedric died. Why? Voldedmort wanted me. Sirius died. Why? Voldemort wanted me. Moody, Dobby, Collin, Remus, Tonks, Fred. All dead because I was too weak to stop him sooner. Because he wanted me so badly he would wipe away anyone who got in his way with a smile on his face. It all leads back to me," he finished miserably.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" Harry jumped as Ron, who had been silent until then, spoke up, his voice sounding awed. "You think that any of this was your fault? You think you're to blame? You didn't kill Fred! Or anyone else for that matter." Ron had stood up and was clearly trying to get Harry to look at him. His voice sounded agitated but there was no sign that he was lying at all.

"Well, except for Riddle, but he had that coming, didn't he?" Ron amended. "Harry," and this time Harry did look into the redhead's eyes. "There is a reason that you were able to best Riddle and his minions time and time again, and for years we've seen you struggle with the idea that it's because you two are so alike. But in fact, it's the complete opposite. You two are so completely contrary in so many ways, it's almost laughable."

"Think about it, Harry," Hermione took over for her boyfriend. "Think of how easily you make friends, how people trust you and you trust them. That's not like _him_ at all. And look at you now, so very worried about losing people you love. Riddle didn't care about who he killed; he had no one to lose in the first place. Harry, Tom Riddle cared for or loved no one but himself in his entire life, he was overly confident and felt himself above others, no matter who they were; creature, wizard, witch, muggle." Hermione sat down next to him and took his hand, absentmindedly tracing the faded scars on it with her thumb.

"Harry, mate, Fred's death wasn't your fault," Ron said, cutting through all the pretenses. He knew that, even though Harry had never actually said it, Fred's death was the one that was most feeding his guilt. He loved Remus and Tonks, and their deaths affected him greatly, just as all of them had, but Fred's was the worst. Fred was part of the Weasley family; his family. He was like Harry's older brother in every way. The Chosen One had always known that it was a possibility that one of them could die, but he had never really accepted it. It hadn't hit him until he saw Fred's lifeless corpse in the arms of his older brother. And, for just the briefest of seconds, he wished that it was him.

He had wished that it really _was_ him who had died in the place of all the others. They would have mourned his loss, sure, but they would get over it. His own death would have been much more fitting and…expected. His was _prepared_ for his own death, knew for years that it would come at the hands of Lord Voldemort; but he was not prepared for this. He was not prepared to survive, and he was not prepared to lose so many people he cared for so deeply, and still remain standing himself. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

For the few seconds that he actually did die that night, he was not afraid, or shocked, he was just…nothing. He didn't feel one way or another about it. He had the knowledge that the horcuxes were taken care of, and that someone would be able to stop Riddle. His friends would be fine, and he was happy for that. No, he did not want to be dead, but he did not want anyone else to suffer. He didn't want to suffer, to face the pain and grief that awaited him in the cold, harsh world he had, just ever so briefly, left behind. But now, here he was, and he had no idea what to do.

Of course, he would never tell Ron or Hermione any of this, but he was pretty sure they already knew. The two of them had always known him too well for his own good, probably better than he knew himself, even.

"Mate, you saved the whole bloody _world_. If it wasn't for you _all_ of us would be dead. You've saved us all again and again. Sacrificed your life for us. I couldn't…we couldn't…" Ron stumbled with his words and Hermione picked up for him.

"We couldn't be more thankful or…proud of you, Harry."

The raven-haired boy's head snapped up at the words. What in the name of Merlin… This just wasn't possible. He was dreaming or something. Harry refused to let his hope rise for fear that if he was let down, he might not survive a second time. And contrary to some of the feelings he experienced the previous night; he did not want to die.

"But…" He stuttered out, "but you were so…angry at me."

"Yeah, damn right we were. We were furious," Ron informed him, not helping in the least with his confusion.

"Harry, we never blamed you for the deaths, we always knew they weren't your fault, you were the only one who thought they were. You…We…You were dead," Hermione seemed to have trouble saying the words and both Ron and Harry instinctively took her hand as tears sprung into her eyes. Harry made to let go, just in case, on top of everything else, Ron thought he was trying to move in on his girl, but Hermione tightened her grip and wouldn't let him.

"You did cause us pain last night Harry. When you were lying "dead" on the dirt at Riddle's feet," Ron said fiercely, but not in a frightening way.

And suddenly everything fell into place. How Ron and Hermione had been the ones to break Voldemort's silence spell the quickest, Ginny not far behind them. How, when the battle had finally been won, Hermione and Ron had been so swift to get to him, to hold him so tight he could hardly breathe. How they had seemed to have trouble being more than five feet away from him for any period of time.

And the anger made sense too. They were mad because he didn't tell them what he planned to do, that they couldn't try and stop him (for Harry had no doubt that that's what they would have done, which is why he didn't tell them in the first place.) They were angry that Harry had been so ready and willing to die for everyone else, that he didn't even consider his own life. And Harry's throat closed up as he realized, not for the first time, that he had the two best friends in the entire world.

He had always been prepared to die. He didn't want to face the pain of surviving when so many others hadn't because he was supposed to be the sacrifice. It had never occurred to him that other might feel the same way about his death. Ron and Hermione had feared his death just as much as he had feared theirs.

"Yeah, and if you ever do something like that to us, to me, again, Harry Potter, I will shove your wand through your eye socket," Ginny said from the doorway, where Harry had the impression she had been standing for quite some time.

He also had the best girlfriend in the world.

"Well," he said, his heart and body feeling lighter than it had in a very long time, "I don't think the opportunity is going to be presenting itself any time soon."

"Good," All three of the most important people in his universe said at once.

And suddenly they were all laughing, holding on to each other, whether it was for support or comfort, none of them knew for sure. Maybe it was both. The laughter had a hysterical edge to it, but not a one of them cared in the least.

"Oh, I don't want to go back to the other room," Hermione said, once the laughing had subsided and the pure exhaustion they all felt really settled in.

"I know it was too far away. That's why I woke up. Some how I knew you would all be in here," Ginny agreed from where she was perched in Harry's lap.

"Then don't go," Ron said while Harry nodded his head in approval, his grip tightening on Ginny. He didn't want them to be separated again. At least not tonight; maybe not for the next couple of days, or weeks even. This was going to take some time to get over, and it was safe to say that all of them felt it was much easier to breathe when the four of them were together.

"Ron, your mum will absolutely kill us when she comes in here in the morning and sees us all in the same room," but Hermione's voice had no conviction, she didn't want to leave either.

"Well, then let's not stay here," Harry suggested, his mouth forming the words before he even registered that his brain had formulated a plan.

"No, I'm serious," he said to the raised eyebrows of his friends, for they knew it would be even worse for them if Mrs. Weasley came in the room in the morning and none of them were there. Much, much worse. "We'll leave on note, explaining where we are so that nobody panics and we'll go to the room of requirement."

At least that way, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't actually see them all together, but they could still get away with it, and, as an added bonus, they didn't have to give anyone a heart attack.

There was a moment of silence which was broken by Ron saying "good enough for me." Ginny was up right after him, already ready to go. Hermione only hesitated for a split second at the thought of breaking the rules (old habits die hard.) But she was soon in and they quickly and quietly scrawled a note on a loose bit of parchment and made their way to the Room of Requirement.

When they got inside they found it decorated with mostly Gryffindor colors, but all four school banners hung on the far wall. It wasn't huge, but it was a fair sized room and it seemed to radiate this comforting heat out of nowhere. There was one large bed, bigger than any bed Harry had ever seen. And his Aunt and Uncle had had a king size, directly in the center if the room, with sheets of black and maroon soft fabric and yellow pillows. More Gryffindor colors.

The four barely noticed anything else in the spectacular room set up just for them, as they walked past the roaring fire in the fireplace and settled down on the bed. Harry was sandwiched between Hermione and Ginny and Ron was on Hermione's other side. Ginny's head settled against his chest after she murmured so softly, just for him, "I love you," and she was deeply asleep as soon as her head was down. He didn't even have a chance to tell her that he felt the same way; but she was infinitely smarter than most people gave her credit for, and Harry had no doubt that she already knew.

Hermione rested her head on Ron's shoulder, but reached one of her hands back to grab Harry's own and she was out just as rapidly.

"You know, Harry, for a moment I thought I had lost two of my brothers tonight," Ron said so softly that Harry had to strain to hear. "I'm glad I was wrong."

And though Harry didn't react when he felt Ron's hand encircle his and Hermione's interlocked hands, he knew that Ron, who had always known the real Harry, right from the first time they had met, who stuck by him for seven years of hardships and happy times, was well aware of what that meant to him.

And so the four saviors of the wizarding and muggle worlds alike, slept soundly that night; with no nightmares to speak of. The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, The Only Hope, was nowhere to be found. There was just Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. And that was so much better. They knew that the coming days would be hard and painful, and that they would shed many more tears due to the war, though it had finally ended; but they also knew that they had each other. That they survived. And that together they would make it through, because evil and pain and grief and anger might be some of the strongest forces to ever touch the human soul; but what they had – friendship, and love, and trust, and family – was about a million times stronger.

**Glad that's finally over. You have no idea how long it took me to get this story right and make it sound how it had in my head. I took it down for a while and edited it and put it back up, so if it seems familiar, that's why. I worked really hard, so if you could leave some nice reviews, that would be really awesome. Thanks!**

**Tell me what you liked about it, what you didn't. Anything.**


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